


Call me

by kwunkwun



Category: EXILE (JPOP), J Soul Brothers (Band), Sandaime J Soul Brothers
Genre: Long-Distance Relationship, M/M, Phone Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-11
Updated: 2017-05-11
Packaged: 2018-10-30 12:18:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,999
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10876644
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kwunkwun/pseuds/kwunkwun
Summary: Ryuji sends Omi one of 'those' photos.





	Call me

6:45. He had about a quarter of an hour to spare before the press conference. In the meantime, Hiroomi milled about on the show ground, stopping in between sips of lukewarm champagne to play nice with photographers, businessmen, designers, models, and other important people. His freshly starched dress shirt was stiff about the collar, his new patent leather shoes tough on the heels, but he knew that he looked a million bucks and had the face to match it. It was a small price to pay compared to the slim-bodied chicks tiptoeing down the cat walk in delicate dresses and sky-high stilettoes.

Hiroomi was in a terrible mood. He tried his darndest to not let it show, but he was mighty pissed. It was something that had been building up day by day, week by week, ever since Ryuji had fucked off to LA by himself without so much as a pre-travelling dinner date (+ sex, lots of it). Yes, it was as much as a work trip as it was a holiday, but Ryuji was not allowed to have that much fun without him or make friends with so many good-looking foreigners. He promised to call, but their schedules hardly matched, and on top of that there was the goddamn time difference. And now, Ryuji wouldn’t even reply to his messages on LINE.

America, give me back my Ryuji!

He set down his empty champagne class upon the platter of a passing waiter and headed for the veranda for a breather. Feeling his phone buzz in his inner pocket, Hiroomi told himself not to anticipate too much. But when he checked the notification - _1 new photo from I. Ryuji -_ it took all of his will power to fix his facial muscles into the same old ikemen façade.

Hiroomi clicked ‘display’.

Almost dropped his phone.

Prompt 45 degree turn from veranda into restroom.

Locked safely inside a cubicle he unlocked his phone once again. It was a selfie, a blurry and badly lit one, taken from the chin down. Ryuji in black briefs and a white tee on the bed, legs open, shirt yanked up to the collarbone. And underneath was the message - _miss you Omi~ Call me_

Of course he called him, cussing under his breath while madly tapping the tiny call icon on the task bar. He prayed to the gods for decent connection as the dial tone droned on in his eardrums.

_‘O~mi~ you really called…’_

Kid was drunk as fuck. He should’ve guessed.

“What were you thinking, sending me that at a time like this?!” he thought he sounded convincingly angry. Probably.

_‘Hm… but it’s… almost 3am…’_

“Time difference, Ryuji. It’s 7pm here. How much did you drink?”

_‘Hehe… oops. Lots. Lots and lots and lots. A bucketful…’_

His boyfriend was adorable, no doubt about it. He could just imagine the dopey little smile on his face right now and he felt terribly lovesick.

“I don’t think you can drink a bucketful, Ryuji. Take better care of yourself.”

_‘Omi, are you worried about me?’_

Hiroomi heard Ryuji giggle, and then the rustle of bedsheets.

“Of course I am. Don’t go getting smashed when you’re alone in a foreign country.”

_‘I wasn’t alone though, don’t worry…’_

Don’t get angry. Don’t get angry.

“As long as you’re home safe. What did you do today?”

_‘Don’t wanna…’_

“Huh?”

_‘Don’t wanna talk about my day. I want Omi to tell me if he likes the photo…’_

His tie suddenly felt very tight. As if subconsciously his hand went to the lock to double check that it was flicked to engaged.

“Which one?”

Hiroomi could imagine Ryuji puffing up his cheeks as he replied, _‘geez, the one I just sent. Stupid Omi.’_

“I like it very much. I wish I was there right now.”

The mattress squeaked, and Ryuji sighed indulgently.

_‘Mm… me too, Omi… the bed in my hotel room is really nice and… there’s a big spa and chocolate in the fridge and… Omi, I want to have sex…’_

Jesus fuck holy mother of god.

“Is your shirt still up?”

_‘Mm-hm.’_

“Stroke your hands up your belly. Up your chest. Are your nipples hard?”

  _‘Ehehe… Omi is a horny bastard…’_

“Oi. I asked you a question.”

_‘They are…’_

“Well, are you touching them?”

_‘Yeah…’_

“How?”

_‘Like… mm, like how Omi usually touches them?’_

“And how do I usually touch them?”

Hiroomi heard Ryuji shuffle and then whimper softly, and of course the noise went straight to his cock.

“Ryuji? How do I usually touch them?”

_‘You stroke them and then you roll them between your fingers and then you pinch…’_

He broke off with a little moan, as if he was doing just that. Fuck, if only he could see Ryuji now. Who’d have thought he could be so bold due to a little long-distance lonely drunkenness? Closing his eyes for a second against the crystal-bright lights bouncing off the marble walls, Hiroomi tried to picture his lover, supine on the bed, subtly illuminated by the city lights, his long legs bared and gorgeous, those pretty fingers working the little nubs on his chest into swollen crimson.

“And then what?”

_‘A-and then… you… ah… y-you lick them and… bite them…’_

“I bet they’re aching, aren’t they?”

His voice was thick with need. It probably lost it effect over the call but still, Ryuji made a sweet, keen noise as if he had just murmured it into his blushing ear.

_‘O-omi can I touch lower?’_

 “Yeah. Pull down your undies till just the tip’s sticking out.”

_‘Why… ?’_

“Wh- cos I like it, that’s why!”

Hiroomi yanked down the toilet cover and sat heavily onto it, grunting softly in discomfort from how his fly was pressing into his erection. His fingers felt clumsy as he slid down the zip to free his dick. It really had been a long time -otherwise there was no way he could be so embarrassingly hard just from listening to him.

_‘Ehehe Omi’s fantasies are so dirty…’_

“Hey, I’m pulling out my dick in a public toilet just for you. Have a little sympathy for a guy who’s still at work.”

_‘Omi’s still at work?’_

“Yeah. Fashion show.”

_‘Is Omi in a nice suit?’_

“Yeah. A black one.”

_‘Heheh. Omi looks handsome in suits. You’d better not get it dirty.’_

This little shit.

“Did you do what I told you to do?”

_‘Don’t be so bossy… I did though.’_

“What does it look like?”

_‘!! I’m not telling you! That’s embarrassing!’_

“It’s leaking, right?”

He heard more shuffling, as if Ryuji was actually sitting up to check.

_‘Y-yeah…’_

“Well can you touch it and…” Hiroomi sucked in a deep breath as he gave his own dick a good slow stroke from base to tip, and fuck did that feel fabulous. “Tell me what you taste like?”

He listened to Ryuji’s heavy breathing, and then his quiet moan, and then a few rustles, before that tell-tale squelch of slick fingers being sucked into a hungry mouth. When Ryuji pulled them back out with a wet pop, Hiroomi couldn’t help but give his erection a few angry pumps.

_‘Not that nice… eheh. Omi’s tastes nicer.’_

Groaning in frustration he replied, “you _know_ I would give anything to feel your mouth on me right now.”

_‘I don’t mind…’_

“Huh?”

_‘If you think about me like that while you’re… you know.’_

Hiroomi smirked, teasing, “a little help would be appreciated, though? Get describing.”

_‘O-omi!’_

“Come on. Don’t leave me hanging when someone might come in at any minute.”

 _‘Well I…’_ He heard Ryuji stop to swallow anxiously, and that noise certainly helped with the imagination. _‘I’ll kneel between your legs and…’_

“And?”

_‘Omi, you like to nudge it against my mouth don’t you… and… and then you’d smear it over my lips and…’_

Graphic! Unexpectedly graphic! He asked for this, but he totally did not expect this level of detail! His cock jumped a little in his hand, and because there was literally no time to indulge he could only grit his teeth and begin to stroke the shaft in steady, heavy motions.

_‘And I… mm! I really like the tip of it, Omi? It gets so swollen when I suck on it and… t-that spot under the head when… when I poke it with my tongue Omi makes a really nice noise so…’_

“Jesus Christ you… hey, Ryuji?”

_‘Yeah…?’_

“You got lube with you?”

_‘Y-yeah…’_

“Good. Use it. I want to hear you… mm-

_‘Omi, does it feel good?’_

“Yeah.”

_‘Hehe, I’m glad.’_

As he pumped his dick, he heard a few clatters and then the pop of a lid. He pictured Ryuji squirting lotion onto his palm and bringing it between his open legs, down the length of his aching erection, under his balls, between his ass cheeks. He pictured that pretty face of his, all rosy-cheeked and bright-eyed, eyebrows creased like he’s stuck on a puzzle, mouth pink and half-open. Judging from the hitch in Ryuji’s breath, he could tell one of his fingers had made it to his hole and that he was stroking, rubbing the little pucker into submission with his fingertip.

“Had no idea you give it to yourself from the backdoor too when you’re jerking off,” he chuckled.

_‘Mm… mm, shut up, Omi…’_

“I want to see you so bad, Ryuji? I want to touch you.”

_‘Me too, Omi… I… ah!’_

That quiet _squelch_ told him that Ryuji had managed to slide in a finger, and the mental image was delicious, making him groan and involuntarily give the head of his cock a good squeeze at the end of one stroke.

Licking his upper lip he took his time to murmur the words, “Spread your legs nice and wide for me, hey? Imagine my fingers fucking you open. I know exactly where you feel it.”

_‘Omi… Omi, I…’_

Ryuji’s heavy panting, and then the protesting squeak of the mattress. Hiroomi imagined himself kneeling in between Ryuji’s legs, rubbing his dick against the side of his knee as he watched him finger himself. His ass glistening with lube as it eagerly sucked in his digits right up to the knuckles. His dark eyes half lidded in bliss and forehead dewy with sweat, his mouth forming his own name over and over like a prayer.

“Can you reach it? That spot?”

_‘Ah! Ah, I don’t… I don’t know, Omi, please? Omi-_

Hiroomi brought up a hand to yank his tie loose and pop open the first few buttons -fuck it was hard to breathe, fuck this man was so unbearably sexy behind closed doors and he didn’t even have any fucking idea…

His worked his erection fast, hearing his turgid blood vessels pump madly in his ears, drowning out the cheerful jazz coming from the speakers, seeing the textures and shapes in the cubicle conglomerate into a galloping kaleidoscope of light and colour.

“Touch the front? I wanna see you come for me, Ryuji.”

  _‘Omi. Omi, Omi, Omi-_

Ryuji’s voice ascended pitch by pitch with each intonation of his name, and Hiroomi _swore_ that he could hear those wet noises of him furiously bringing himself towards orgasm. There was a sweet, muffled shout from the other end of the line, and then shuddering whimpers as Ryuji slowly rode out his high. He squeezed his phone between his ear and his shoulder and, bringing one hand over the head of his cock, he pumped hard a few more times and came relatively cleanly into his own palm.

The room seemed to swim about him as he sat back and tried to work some air into his lungs. That much-awaited, shared orgasm with his (temporary) long-distance lover was sending ribbons of endorphins through his body, and his limbs felt heavy with total, utter bliss.

“Ryuji?”

_‘Mm…’_

“Hey, Ryuji?”

He heard the mattress sigh.

“Ryuji…”

It was quite clear that his lover had decided to pass out altogether. Figures.

“I love you, you idiot. Sleep tight.”

 

 

Fin.

**Author's Note:**

> oops


End file.
